


Pleasure Given Is Pleasure Returned

by DarkDreamsOfHannigram, theconsciousdarkness



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Lots of attention to Will's ass, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDreamsOfHannigram/pseuds/DarkDreamsOfHannigram, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theconsciousdarkness/pseuds/theconsciousdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An ask/answer exchange, carried out on tumblr. Will's part is in bold; in this and subsequent rounds, he will be voicing his internal dialogue, as he does in crime reconstructions, as well as speaking aloud in context. Hannibal is actually speaking.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Pleasure Given Is Pleasure Returned

**Author's Note:**

> An ask/answer exchange, carried out on tumblr. Will's part is in bold; in this and subsequent rounds, he will be voicing his internal dialogue, as he does in crime reconstructions, as well as speaking aloud in context. Hannibal is actually speaking.

**I think often of all the things you've shown me. I am beyond fulfilled in ways I can barely grasp, but I hunger for more. You said there are no limits to pleasure. It is with that sentiment in mind that I arrive at your home. I bring you wine, maybe more for my nerves than your refined palate but you accept it graciously none the less. I know you can sense my desire. My longing. I hold my tongue for now. With a knowing smile, you retrieve two glasses for us, and lead me to the sitting room.**

Yes, Will. Any limits that exist are within your own mind, and you have done so well in eliminating them entirely. We should sit and talk of pleasures to explore. Of ways to open yourself, to become more vulnerable to me than you could ever have begun to imagine, before we were together like this. Any desire you have for me is a longing shared. To see you taken apart by it… I would exist in the very spaces of your surrender.

 

**Hearing your words I feel agitated, full of nervous and hopeful energy. I want to tear down my limits. Destroy them. I will gladly surrender to you. When you say we should speak of these pleasures to explore, I am only too eager to agree. I finish my glass hastily, impatient to claim your wine-stained lips. I pull back after a moment, looking at you. The time before we were together feels wasted with a lack of passion. What will we do together? What things will you show me?**

You are so beautiful in your wanting. I touch your face, fingers gliding along your jaw, and pull you in for another lingering kiss. It is full of dark promises. Let us go together to the quiet of my bedroom, Will. I would hope that it has enough positive associations by now that it would be a place of relaxation. Away from the responsibilities your gifts have created for you. As I lead you there, I tell you to prepare to give yourself over to me, completely.  I will open you, but not as I have done before.

 

**I shiver when you touch me, your fingertips against me hold promise for what’s to come. I’m only too happy to follow you. Being taken to your bedroom fills me with a curious joy - a place where I don’t have to think. I exist on pure sensation, your touch an outline of where my reality begins. Where I feel safe. I stand, watching you, when we arrive upstairs. The lights are already dim. I am beyond thankful for the tranquility and calmness. I take your hand, wanting to pull you near to me.**

I can read you, even without you taking my hand. Holding you close, I feel you weaken in my arms as your lips part under mine. There is no need for thought, here in my embrace. Stepping back, I guide your hands to unbutton your shirt, and I slide it off of your shoulders. Kissing your heated skin, hand lightly entwined in your hair, I hold you tightly to stop your trembling. Finally, you relax. My fingers work open the buttons of your jeans, and at last you are exposed for me to appreciate. I would taste every part of you, Will. Lay yourself out for me, on your stomach, and focus your mind; I will join you in a moment.

  
**I do as you ask of me, stretching out on your bed. The sheets, the duvet, feel cold in contrast to my feverish skin. I can hear you moving about, and for awhile, I rest my head in my arms. My curiosity is too great, however, and so I turn my head to watch. You catch my gaze, of course, and so I bury my face in the pillow, laughing quietly. As I relax, your words echo in my mind: “I would taste every part of you.” I long for it. I dream of it. I would beg for it. I want you to consume me.** **  
**  


A form of consumption, to be sure. And you must know I would never deny you anything. If only you could watch; I fear that would be impossible, however. Lay down your head, and imagine, Will, as only you are capable of doing. Think only of warm, gentle touches, that relax and quiet your mind. As I begin to massage you, traveling up from your calves, my hands ease your legs further apart. The tension leaves you so gradually. I wonder…what do you see, in your mind’s eye, as my tongue begins to slide across your heated flesh?

 

**As much as you could never deny me, neither can I ever resist you. I do as you ask. I lay my head down and close my eyes, focusing on your touch. The tension flows from me. It drains from my limbs. At first, there is only darkness in my mind’s eye. Quiet. Calm. Your hands are teasing but kind. There is color next. Not definite shapes. Not yet. Just a plane of changing hue timed to your fingers as they trace my skin. It intensifies with your touch, the gentle pressure as my thighs are spread.**

That is perfect…you’re doing so well. It is good that you should be relaxed, and so trusting. My lips trace the heated places of your flesh, and it is like…devouring. I would savor it, but this is not for me. As I taste, so you react; instead of increasing, I can feel the tension ebb from you. My hands, fingers splayed along the musculature, keep count of every tremble and twitch as if by themselves. I can never forget them. And as my mouth reaches the most sensitive places, the intake of your breath and the silent groan that follows is beyond my capacity to describe. You open for me so beautifully, Will. As always.

**I tremble from the feeling of being touched, tasted, in places I am unaccustomed to. Just when sensation becomes too much, builds too quickly, you ease back. My heart calms, but soon I’m wanting more. I try to still the shudder of my hips, my desire to push back against your tongue. You seek out hidden places inside me. My quickening breath is muffled as I bury my face in your pillow, sighing out your name.**

Give in to the trembling. It is the truth of your body; not to be denied. To me, you are slick and quiver around my tongue as it enters you, again and again. I hold you, but not firmly enough you cannot move as you need to. Do you feel pressure building, accompanied by an insatiable need to thrust against something, anything at all? Yes. I see that you do. Now I’m afraid I must  prevent you from unrestricted motion. We wouldn’t want this to be over too quickly. I certainly would not. Keep your mind focused on that feeling of need, Will. Let your conscious mind be subsumed in it. Breathe it in, and it alone.

 

**The pleasure comes in waves. I am at the mercy of them, unmoored, body pulsing and writhing in a strange rhythm as you pin me down. I resist, just to feel you push back. I want so much. I need so deeply. Your tongues presses in, hot and searching, and I can’t keep from crying out. My sight is gone, unneeded now. Pure sensation is enough to paint a more vivid picture in my mind. My fingers curl through the sheets, held tightly with shaking fingers, as if to keep me from drifting away.**

You have to let go of that fear, Will. Trust that you will not lose yourself, but that you will become more if you relinquish control. Besides, it is not as if you have any, do you? I’ve brought you to this place, and I will not see you take the journey half way. I gradually ease my hold on your hips, and drive you further gone. My tongue is hot and slick inside of you, overwhelming you with sensation; but even more, I know the effect upon your mind. Would that I be able to see the visions that invade you. To be taken apart like this, to be driven to forget yourself, even for a moment…you risk madness, but you can do nothing else. The sharpened edge of your need is nearly as delicious as you.

**There is no fear. I do drift away, but you go with me. I give myself over to you - my body, my mind. I am lost. But only to sensation. To pleasure. And to a strange emotion that makes my chest ache at the mere thought of it. Dimly, I can hear myself crying out. I plead for more. The depth of my desire for you is limitlessness. I hide my face again - the sound of my passion muffled as I call out your name.**

I wonder if the emotion you are reaching to describe is that which is unfamiliar to you - letting go, and receiving pleasure with no need to think of anything owed in return. Exactly as it should be, and much as I had hoped. Do not try to contain the sound of your passion. If your arousal is uncontrolled, do not try to control it. Simplicity itself, Will. I wish to hear it, for that is my reward. To hear my name on your lips now…it is beauty for which there are no words. Pushing you further into that state, my tongue dives deeper into you, unrelenting, until you have no other choice but to surrender. More is what you cry out for, and I will give you more than you ever dreamed you could bear.

**I was unaccustomed to pleasure so freely given, until I was welcomed into your bed. With that thought, I turn my face to the side, breathless. Aching. My arousal cannot be calmed; neither can I be silent any longer. I no longer know what I say - my thoughts are not coherent. I beg. I plead. I try to still the frantic thrust of my hips. I reach my hand back, as much as I’m able, searching your touch.**

There is no need to still; permit yourself to feel everything as much as you can. As you raise up just slightly on your knees, I finally relent, one last long stroke of my tongue against your sensitized flesh. Pleasure given is pleasure returned, Will. Never forget that is ultimately our arrangement. Now, there is one thing that I need  from you. Do you think you can indulge me? I touch your proffered hand, and although you cannot speak, I see that you are willing to try. Ease back just a bit further…perfect. A little space between your hips and the bed is all I will require.

 

**It is too much to speak, but I hear in my mind what I would say to you were I able. I feel so much - the tremor in my thighs, the warmth that spreads through my hand from your touch, the ache in my lungs, the even greater ache in my cock. It becomes difficult to breathe; I hear myself making such desperate sounds for you. Though my own words fail me, I understand yours completely. I rest forward on my shoulders, lifting my hips as you asked, unsure of what’s to happen.**

Perfect, Will. I need you to relax, and focus on your body instead of your thoughts. I caress you, so slick from everything I have been doing to you, bringing your length between your spread thighs. You have been so patient, and so open to new sensation. Like a dream of the light of waking, it is both real and and a portion of your own inner self, grown to its greater potential. Although you have wanted nothing more than to thrust against my hand, you hesitate and take your time now. Perhaps you do not wish this to end so soon; but I don’t imagine you will last much longer. Your need is exquisite…

 

**It’s only too easy to let my thoughts pass away. My awareness settles on my body - how I ache for your touch, for release. I pause, unsure, as your hand slips away from my cock. I arch my back, seeking the lost contact. The sound of my desperate longing is muffled only by my heartbeat. Loud. Unforgiving. I whimper, crying out for more.**

 

My touch will serve to encourage you, as I caress the small of your back…lightly at first, then heavy as you begin to understand what it is I would have you do. Very good…so lovely as you lose yourself in thrusting against the sheets. So rarely do I see you like this - forgotten are the concerns that keep you from delighting me as you do now. Release is yours to take. I wish that you should be vocal, that I could hear the consequence of my tongue hot and insistent inside of you. Cum for me, Will. Show me everything.

 

**I concentrate on the warm heaviness of your touch, the nearly unbearable slide of my cock, heavy and full against the sheets. My words are well and truly gone; all that remains is desperate pleasure. I hear your encouraging noises, feel your hands sliding down to the insides my thighs. Pressing them open. Gently. The thought of how exposed I am for you is too much. Rhythm falters, my whole body clenching tightly as something uncoils deep inside me. I cry your name as I cum. Just for you.**

 

My name upon your lips as you give yourself over to ecstasy is the sweetest sound I would ever hope to hear. Exposed to me, yes, but more than just in body. This you know. Your release, uncontrollable, is a gift; as are your whimpers of inhibitions left behind. I stroke your hair and quiet you as the last shudders pass through your limbs. Your pleasure is like the receding waves of far off thunder. Like you, entirely elemental. You need never be desperate as long as we are connected, Will. How could I ever refuse you? 

**Author's Note:**

> The Hannigram Project is a smutty Hannibal and Will exchange between [Dark Dreams of Hannigram](http://darkdreamsofhannigram.tumblr.com/) and [Conscious Darkness](http://consciousdarkness.tumblr.com/). This is the first part; each part can be tracked on tumblr using the tag [thehannigramproject](http://darkdreamsofhannigram.tumblr.com/tagged/thehannigramproject); Part five will have the tag "thehannigramproject round 5".


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